


Pointless

by Welcoming_Disaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, can be read as destiel, genre subversion, not a real imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5315912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welcoming_Disaster/pseuds/Welcoming_Disaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to try my hand at one of those "Imagine" things and went from the classic, "Reader is a casualty in a war he/she/they have not heard of and cannot hope to understand," angle. </p><p>Disclaimer: Not a real imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pointless

Imagine that you’re standing straight-backed against the wall of a building, just like your superior told you to. It’s an average day in your life; you woke up this morning and ate instant oatmeal with those weird shriveled up thingies in it that the company wants people to believe are blueberries (you suspect they’re raisins), and then you brushed your teeth with the new toothpaste that left a weird aftertaste in your mouth, and then you listened to Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood” on your way to work. 

You’ve never known what, exactly, you were protecting. You heard it was a man. Perhaps a prisoner, or someone seeking refuge. It was all the same to you, really. You have a job, and you get payed for it. 

This morning’s different, because this morning your job requires you to actually do active protecting. The first thirty minutes go by as usual, but just as you’re starting to slide into the familiar feeling of boredom, the flashy red alarms on the walls go off. They’re shrill, and the school-kid in you feels like this is a fire-drill and you should find the other guards and go line up in the parking lot. 

Instead, you pull your gun out, moving to block the one of the entrances that you’ve rehearsed blocking hundreds of times. Bernard, the butch guy with the pedostache, stands on the other side. His gun is also drawn. The door behind you leads to the room with the one they’re guarding. No one should come this far. 

At the exact same time, two figures drop from somewhere above you, one on either side. One of them has you disarmed before you can shoot, and the other knocks Bernard out in a second.

You don’t give up easy, though, and you twist around, taking the gun from the man that attacked you in one smooth motion. Another figure falls from the ceiling ducts as you shoot. Her eyes widen, and she’s got her own gun out. Your bullet grazes someone’s shoulder but now she’s shooting and you’re falling back. 

You’re close range, and without the distraction you would have killed him. He doesn’t even seem that hurt but you are. 

You’re on the floor and you can’t move, even though nothing really hurts anymore. It’s probably because she shot you in the back, you think. You manage a blink and look them over. They don’t notice. 

“I think I just killed someone.” The newcomer says. She sounds shocked. Her brown eyes are opened wide, and while she’s wearing a ninja suit (who the fuck seriously wears a ninja suit? well, maybe someone who doesn’t want their face caught on camera, but it’s still weird and almost geeky), you can see a strand of red hair on her face. You want to scream at her that she no, she hasn’t, that you’re still here, still alive, slowly bleeding out on the floor. Your mouth is full of blood, and you can’t breathe. 

“Good job, kid,” Says the shorter of the two men, glancing over at her.  The taller one is picking the lock. 

“That’s not... don’t say that, Dean.” She chastises, fiddling with her sleeves. She only seems to notice that he’s hurt then. “Shit, are you okay?” 

“Tis but a flesh wound.” Dean laughs, and it’s almost hysterical. “Hurry your ass up, Sammy, we don’t have all day.”

“I’m trying!” The taller man hisses, gesturing at the lock. “This is one hell of a door, okay?”

“Get out of the way,” Dean says, and it’s an order. The other man backs away. Dean takes out his gun. You’re sure that one shot would have done, but he shoots three times and kicks the door out of the way. The taller man grabs his shoulder.

“Dean, I know you’re worried, but you’re not helping anyone by being reckless right now,” He says, quietly. There’s a lot of feeling there. 

“We left him there for months, Sam!” Dean’s not yelling. You guess his tone would be far less terrifying if he was. “God knows what they could have done to him! I’m not going to slow down now that we have a lead.”

The woman in the ninja suit slips past them as they’re bickering, and suddenly they’re both scrambling to catch up with her. 

You’re left alone in the hall. You die two and a half minutes later.    

 

 


End file.
